Tag Archives: Niky Wardley

“Glengarry Glen Ross” at the Old Vic Theatre

This revival of David Mamet’s play will probably be remembered for its all-female casting. It’s a first – prominently advertised – and the twist is oddly appropriate to writing so obsessively focused on masculinity. The story of real estate salesmen, ruthless and desperate in equal measure, is made stranger, uncanny even, by director Patrick Marber and his performers. Yet, unlike the very best revivals, this production adds surprisingly little to an appreciation of the piece.

To be clear, the cast is excellent. There’s Dorothea Myer-Bennett as office manager John, revelling in the bureaucratic power over the leads that help sales. Frustrated Dave and insecure George, played by Niky Wardley and Nancy Crane, are both in danger of losing their jobs because they cannot close sales. And Shelly ‘The Machine’ Levine, one of Mamet’s most powerful creations, inspires one of Indira Varma’s finest performances. Shelley is paired with former protégé Roma, played by Rosa Salazar, whose strong portrayal helps establish a bond with Levine that is one of the few humane relationships in the show.

The cast revel in roles they surely never imagined they would get the chance to play. They embrace the absence of anything appealing about the characters – that is Mamet’s point. Marber doesn’t shy away from the ugliness of the business, and Salazar is particularly strong at showing it (the deal with a gullible client, played by Mercedes Bahleda with great reserve, is particularly uncomfortable). Yes, you can recognise the salespeople; Varma even allows you to feel sorry for Levine, and Crane creates sympathy, too. But with so much greed on display, no matter how accurate Mamet’s analysis, Glengarry Glen Ross is not an easy watch.

Being uncomfortable is part of the intention, of course. These salesfolk aren’t super successful and you can pity them. They are exploited, too, by the offstage owners Mitch and Murray, who Mamet makes so vivid. If the argument is laboured, it doesn’t feel dated. The play’s observations on capitalism and morality, made by many, are as valid as ever. But for all the skill, the production has a problem. The casting won’t convert anyone to the play. Of course, it doesn’t have to, as the show stands strong. But this is an unpleasant piece you’ll either love or hate – nothing has changed on that front.

Until 18 July 2026

www.oldvictheatre.com

Photo by Manuel Harlan

“The Same Deep Water As Me” at the Donmar Warehouse

Following the success of Nick Payne’s award-winning Constellations, Josie Rourke, artistic director at the Donmar, has the coup of presenting his new play, The Same Deep Water As Me. Set in a ‘no-win-no-fee’ lawyers’ office in Luton, it’s a departure for the young writer, moving from intimate personal dramas into the wider world of work. Payne tackles big issues with humour and intelligence and deserves great success.

Superbly directed by John Crowley, the play’s plot, an attempt to swindle large companies via insurance claims, serves to explore the theme of lying. The rather desperate Kevin suggests the idea to his old school friend Andrew, who has made good as a lawyer. In a bravura performance, Daniel Mays takes the lead, deceiving his character’s older colleague Barry and renewing an attachment to his first love, now Kevin’s wife, Jennifer (a charming Niky Wardley). Payne’s strong characterisations emerge as they become embroiled in the scam.

There are some marvellous one-liners here, some of the funniest you’ll hear on stage in London at the moment, and the delivery from Marc Wotton’s Mephistophelean Kevin is superb. Nuanced observations on class are used to particularly great effect when a claim is contested in court: Peter Forbes and Monica Dolan play a sleek legal establishment magnificently and Isabella Laughland’s cameo as a lorry driver is arresting (if a shockingly small role for such a talented actress).

Payne’s writing has a strange modesty that makes for a unique voice – a joke denied a punch line, unstated emotions suggested with restraint – and surely many a dramatist would have opted for the more dramatic criminal court instead of a civil one? Playing down has a purpose: raising questions about access to justice is topical but, providing a further satisfying weight, a Kantian universalizability shows that this is deep water we really are all in together.

Until 28 September 2013

www.donmarwarehouse.com

Photo by Johan Persson

Written 12 August 2013 for The London Magazine